To Fulfill His Dream
by PhantomHeart1228
Summary: On the day that boy jumped off his junior high's roof and traded places with me, I became the weakest of all in the world of super powers and wonders beyond relief. But I hold a secret, I hold true power. I control the strings of fate itself through life and the energy that powers the world we know. I am Midoriya Izuku, or at least I have been since the day he died. (AU)
1. Chapter 1 - Trade

When you look up at the sky, what do you see? Do you see stars, do you see the moon, or do you live in a town where the stars are replaced by the soft, city lights. Do you see any light at all, or do you live in darkness? A sea of endless possibilities plague my mind at night as everyday for me is a night in the stars. I've been living here for a while, a place far away from any reality, and peaceful without noise. Sometimes I miss the feeling of existing near other people, but the feeling of simply drifting away in this soft ocean of space gives me comfort. For here, there are no responsibilities, no judgement, and most importantly, no power. This tranquil dream of mine has lasted for eons, and never yet have I felt true desire to return back to the place that despised the blood of someone like myself.

I was a beast of the shadows that controlled the strings of destiny itself. Some people could call me a god with the abilities I possessed, yet here I was; helpless. The scene reminded me of one I had watched a long time ago on a screen from my childhood. I was the genie that sat waiting in the bottle, except for me there was no master and there never would be. I was never 'trapped' here. It's just the safest place for me to be… me.

I remember her face in these stars… She used to ardently adore me, yet now she was a mere shadow in my mind that ripped away pieces of my very existence. She stole my heart, soul, and body; I am now just a bundle of a mind and memories, drifting still within this realm of space. Never before in the years that I've been up here did I think that I would ever see something looking human. After all, I haven't seen my reflection in eons. Yet there he was, a small looking boy who was no older than twelve or younger at most. He was crying while holding his head as if to stop the violent heaves of breath he took at every second.

Why was he panicking? He would be fine here, it was a safe place. But the closer I drifted to him, the more darkness seemed to conquer the area around us. The stars that were once so precious for their lights began to die out quickly. Using my hand to slowly reach towards the boy, I never expected for him to turn so drastically to stare at me. His eyes reminded me of the sea with how beautifully green they were. It was as if someone threw an emerald into a pond of jade. Those eyes of his were so beautiful, so why was he crying? Those tears that welled up like useless crystals as they dragged his cheeks into cries of despair.

The only thing that filled the silence besides his continuous sniffling and cries were his mutters. He muttered words that I couldn't completely comprehend. He spoke in jitters of nervous panic as I tuned in to his words.

" _I-I Want… I-I want to be…"_ he spoke pitifully as tears melted any confidence he had in those words.

The closer I came to him, the more his appearance intrigued me, he looked of Japanese descent but his very being was strange and peculiar. His eyes were those startling green gems and his hair was a curly mess of black, rooted, green wefts. Only a second seemed to pass by before his eyes dulled again as he squeezed them tight to rid them of the salted agony that plagued him. I felt my own body float towards him in a sort. My own dark eyes connecting in a electric flare to the his, which was ironic as the minute my hand barely grazed his clothing a powerful shock exploded between us. Bright, white light blinded me as I felt searing pain overcome my body. When I opened my eyes… Nothing was the same anymore: my tranquil garden of stars and a moon were gone, the planets that used to comfort me were gone, the lights and soft spinning of the world as I floated around were gone; instead, all I felt was pain.

Screams erupted forth from my mouth in powerful waves as I felt something that I had missing for years return to me; a human body. I felt the tears that prickled at my eyes as storms of memories hit me one by one. I felt my body convulse wildly as the senses of feeling returned to my body. Pain mixed with awe as I opened these eyes of mine. The world was a blurry mess with loud beeping echoing throughout the white room. I felt comfort in the soft bedding underneath me, and I felt warmth from the human that was hugging my arm. Everything hurt as for the next five minutes everything in my body was aching with convulsions that zapped energy through my bones and life through my veins. Tears fell from my own cheeks as droplets of water covered my arm from the person who failed at my side. The peace and quiet finally joined me when more white blobs moved around and ushered the other figure out of the room. It took a few seconds to realize that I was in a hospital bed. And even more to comprehend that I was alive in another body, the boy who I saw earlier and I had switched places. The world before me in my eyes was bright, it was a stark contrast to the dark and miserable world of my own past.

Hours seemingly past as time moved forward casually. Several doctors came into the room to explain to me my situation, rather the boy's past situation that was now mine. Apparently, he had tried to commit suicide; a sad thought to most as it was revealed to be this body's age.

"Midoriya-san, you were found at lying unconscious and gravely injured from jumping off the roof of your junior high. Do you recall any of this?" The doctor asked me with a certain edge in his voice that I couldn't discern.

It had been like this for the past few minutes. He'd ask questions retaining to my memories and I would answer no. Obviously, I knew of the boy's memories, but with my own personality clashing against his… I couldn't answer that I was still _him_. This body was now mine, his memories were his. Today would be a new start. But every time I answered with a no, the lady in the corner who held my hand with frivolous anxiety would choke on her tears.

"No, I don't remember anything about my junior high nor any type of depression, once again; I don't remember anything at all. Everything but a mere blank state for me, I am sorry. But I cannot answer any of your questions as desired," I spoke back calmly as I mulled over my own thoughts at the time.

The lady in the corner choked back another sob that rose in her throat. I recognized her as the past, owner's mother. She shared the same green eyes as well as his green locks, although hers was a much lighter shade.

The doctor spoke again, shifting his posture as my responses only seemed to trouble him, "Midoriya-san, do you remember anything about the lady next to you?"

I could only look at the crying woman that clung to my arm, I knew she was this boy's mother, yet even though her son couldn't remember anything, she still loved him. Was it the human bond of familiarity that linked her to him still, or was it the fact that she pined for her little boy again? I couldn't tell which was the truth, but I remembered the words of the boy as he curled up and muttered those words.

" _I want to be a hero…"_

Huh. I could never imagine myself being on the side of the law that abided every law and little rule that same to tongue. The lady next to me continued to weep as my lack of response continued the eerie silence in the room.

"Like I said, I don't remember anything. I don't remember family, not friends, nor school," I spoke softly as I remembered the boy's shuffled appearance with jittery words.

The woman who I came to recognize as this body's mother continued to weep as the doctor let out a stilled sigh, "Your son has retrograde amnesia, the best treatment he can get right now is to be put in a familiar environment and just be brought through it all again. He needs to re-learn what it means to be 'Izuku'," he spoke solemnly as my mother quipped her head in a nod.

It felt odd calling the woman my mother, this current life felt extraordinarily separate from my original life. This soul of mine was forever tainted, but this body was fresh and innocent, yes it was broken, but darkness had not yet plagued it as it did mine. This skin was pure and white, like marble without any impurities, that was until I caught gaze of the scars that riddled my new wrists and arms.

The two argued in front of me as the woman I understood from the boy's memories to be named Inko fought the doctor's decisions for rehabilitation or mental institutions.

"Even if he doesn't remember anything, he is still my son! He may be quirkless, but that doesn't make him trash! He is Izuku!" She screamed out at the aging doctor as I turned my head with a slight glance.

While she was small in height but stout reasonably, she was explosive and loving. She reminded me slightly of a world I read of, a familiar thought of a red haired woman with seven children, all powerful, not like her's which was of one and powerless. My gaze met hers and she let out tears as her grip on my other arm tightened with reassurance.

"We'll get your memories back, Izuku! I promise, and we don't need a doctor who is convinced you are ill!" She hacked back at the man before helping me up and ushering us through the door.

It was long walk down the cold hallways, in which there was no life to be seen. It was hard for me to comprehend everything at first. The fact that the previous owner of this body jumped off a roof. That this body had been comatose and nearly brain dead for a week. Doctors had predicted that Izuku Midoriya would die off within the month by unplugging him from life support. It was a miracle that the body regained consciousness, and that I came forth through this tragedy. My own grip tightened, the nails of these fingers digging into perfect palms of naive childhood.

This boy… Facing the tragedy and anguish of those years ahead was subdued to misery because of what I was told was 'quirklessness', a growl grew in my throat. I was furious at the memories that flooded my mind. Yes, the child was weak and he had to learn how to be strong, but what right did that give the high and mighty to push him down even further? To the point where he committed suicide? I looked up at the sky through the windows of the hospital halls, I hope that wherever the original Izuku was, he was happy and at peace. Because now, it was my turn, and I would fulfill his dream to the best of my ability, and avenge him of the misdeeds of the powerful who sharpened their fangs in the dark.

Those of great power would pay…

Katsuki Bakugou was the first name of my list.

And with that, we left the dreaded white rooms of the hospital and into the streets of Japan. There was much to learn about this world, especially those who I would have to defeat and conquer… The limited memories of the past owner of this body gave me a general understanding of the advancements in humankind since my reign across the world. But the universe should fear me, for this body was much more powerful than my last.

After all, what use is a quirk when you know magic? And what use is having an extra toe-joint when your body has unlimited mana? There is none, for all power comes from the running beat of your heart, from the electric pulse that sparks through your brain. All power comes from life, and every action needs a cause.

This world would rue the day that they crossed me, and the young boy named Izuku Midoriya.


	2. Chapter 2 - Coffee

The trip to my new or, in this body's instance, old home was pleasant. It was nice to hear about the woman who I had begun to associate with the term mother speak in her soft voice about childhood memories. Though, it was getting harder to differentiate which of the memories were mine, and which were his. This body was always active, and its brain even more so. If he hadn't been so weak in health, I was sure that Izuku would have been an extremely powerful mage, however; in this world, magic didn't exist — well not yet anyway. It was a terrifying thought that I might have lost all might and worth, but that familiar buzz of control at my fingertips, although small right now, held great potential.

"Izuku, are you alright? You've been blanking out for a while…" the soft voice of my new mother popped my bubble of thoughts, and I slowly turned to face her.

She was on verge of tears again, and I knew that it was because of my peculiar behavior; the fact that I was human again had stirred unease within my soul. I was never one to show much of my emotions in my last life, either; only my grief and anger truly defined me. But now, I was in a young boy: someone who should be showing excessive emotions, especially during puberty. This adolescence was a tumor to me, it would have been easier to commit to my own goals if the body were that of an adult's, but the more I grieved about the situation the more of the bo- no… Izuku's influence flooded through me.

"Oh, yes… I'm alright mother," for some reason when I said that, it came out cold and distant.

Totally, the most appropriate thing to say to a currently distraught and somewhat grieving mother. To him, if he were still here, I think Izuku would have awkwardly comforted his mother through apologizing and hugging her, but I was not someone who could do the same. I could offer her condolences for her son's previous actions; saying that as a new person, it would never happen again. I wouldn't throw away this life, not in a million years.

To me, this was a new start beyond the ages of waiting around in the chaos of time. This was a world of new splendor, and I had a new goal as well — it was high time that Izuku got his well deserved vengeance. Even if the boy thought that he was friends with his tormentors, I disagreed; there are people in this world who get away with every misdeed and evil, and while my actions would eventually be finished off by this same philosophy, I would purge evil with evil; as secretly as possible to not taint the name of Izuku Midoriya…

It was the minute that my new mother left that I ventured throughout the room now mine with opportunities breezing in the stale wind. Now obviously, I had a few deterrents in my awaiting plot. One, there was the issue of my broken right arm and currently fractured left leg, both of which were in casts making movement quite difficult. However, as I glanced around the room covered in bright colors and a vast display of hero posters but the more important view of journals filled with information, I couldn't help as a sadistic grin came upon my face. Oh, how fun it would be to use all this knowledge to bury any who had previously opposed me. The anger and passion that filled my cold soul from millenia before would be tragically vented upon the enemies of this body: Katsuki Bakugou and the rest of that dreaded school. But two, I was currently in a body too weak to start any type of counterattack against said villains, for now, I would have to be patient. Three, there was my body's age and identity, it would be hard to cover my traces now that my face was somewhat known as suicides and other incidents of such are usually publicly broadcasted. It was up to my own devices and memories from my past life to cover up the identity of the one I owned now.

This world would be difficult to function in, so I decided to start off my adventure and ambitions with a steep cup of sugary coffee — too bad the kitchen lacked the ingredients. Apparently, the Midoriyas never had any interest in the addictive drug known as caffeine, much to my dismay and disappointment. Luckily, this world was advanced enough in technology to have something similar to a gps-based map service app. Hm, what an old title, "app" a word used centuries ago in my time for simple applications on cellular devices; in my time they were embedded in our brain chips, this world truly did function on another level.

Taking little time to adjust myself thoroughly, I grabbed the crutches that would help me in my case of lax mobility and moved out from the room — though I did grab a few of the precious notebooks of information that would help me fulfill my vengeance that seeked the blood of the unworthy — and I walked out the door with one concerned glance from my mother. This adventure was one that fueled my blood — what devil could function without any caffeine? — it was a simple walk, but I eventually came across a small but beautiful cafe.

Not taking up much time, I found myself waiting in the line for coffee. The line was short as it was the later hours of the afternoon, past the usual bustling of work-goers and students needing their fix for homework and study hours. The line was maybe three people long, so the wait went by even quicker as the few individuals grabbed their drinks and left. When I approached the cashier, I felt her stare linger on my injuries for a moment longer than appreciated before she took my order.

Yet with a minor sigh, I continued — "One large cup of caramel macchiato with five shots of espresso and whipped cream, please," I spoke softly as the droll in my voice dragged on until the cashier finally took down my order and handed me my receipt.

"It'll be right out, sir," she spoke quietly, before disappearing behind the various counters to start brewing each order.

Swirling scents of paper from the nearby university students and the blooming earth of the smell of java consumed me — the tinge of old parchment that yellowed but still held its aroma of knowledge while the deep roast of coffee was a swirl of dark umber as it flooded my senses. Each swirl and fragrance enveloped me before the sharp pain of someone gripping my injured shoulder jolted me away from my day dream of redolence.

"Oi, Deku, when did you get out of the hospital?!" a rough and familiar tone screeched in my vicinity — its voice booming and obnoxious, disturbing me.

Obviously, I returned the favor — what imbecile would let himself be walked upon like this? Oh wait, me.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" the words came off of my tongue with ease, the recipient being the ever so infamous bastard in my memory, Katsuki Bakugou — but of course he would be the monster that I would never truly address, no… rather it be that he I will switch roles — the prey, and I the hunter.

"Don't 'do I know you?' me, I know you fucking remember me, loser. What the hell are you doing out of that damn hospital? You died! I fucking saw you, how the fuck are you alive right now you pathetic shit?! How dare you walk around the streets, you freak?" his voice rumbled with unnerve and anger but was under laced with fear.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I walked up to the blubbering fool, "Let me just say-" but I promptly cut off by the nice cashier girl from earlier calling my name.

"Izuku Midoriya? Your order is ready, here you are, sir" the girl spoke kindly with a smile as she handed me my warm drink, I offered a small grin in response before carefully balancing on my right leg to grab the coffee with my left arm — while this body may have been right-handed, I had always been ambidextrous, there was no fault in adjusting of course, I was just that perfect at not being stupid.

"Now where was I? Oh yes… Let me just say this now, I don't remember you well, I was in a hospital from a suicide attempt as you know — one that was caused by some pompous groups of nobodies trying to vent out their patheticness on others — but of course, I can assume that you were a part of such affiliation seeing as how you are so hostile to little ol' me," I took a pause to take a long sip from my hot coffee, the sweetness of caramel melting with the bitter brew was perfect, "Now could you kindly move? I'd rather not remember a bastard like you, how about you take your blonde spikes and dive them into a frozen river and stay there? You've always seemed like a block-head from what very little thoughts I know of you, Bakugou."

It was evident that my tone and coldness to him left him shocked, it seemed as if he earnestly believed that I remembered him; as if my existence had once depended on him. My past speculations were already coming true: Bakugou was the one dependent on my actions, not me — the roles had been switched, and I enjoyed not having to worry about him possibly indulging in the fact of what had happened as I walked out of the cafe with a light double tap to his cheek.

"See you at school, blondie. But then again, that will change too. Ciao, Bakugou," stating my double farewell, I walked away from him and that establishment — the coldness of the cafe stinging against the warmth of my clothes as I wobbled away in confidence.

How ironic was that? Even though he was stronger than me, had a better a body than me, a better fortune than me, he still stood there shocked. It was the difference from I and the old — the old Izuku Midoriya was dead, and it wasn't my fault; it was Bakugou's. Though, I still felt both pity and sympathy for the young soul. But he'd recollect himself eventually in the dark mass and void, it was calming, and it gives you time to think.

For what to think of? I will never know… My days of endless thought ended the minute my consciousness was transferred into Izuku. Now, I had plans to get to, so for now, all I could do was take a deep sip of my coffee — that was until the deep brew surged a spike of realization to me.

" _Shit. I forgot my receipt…"_


	3. Chapter 3 - Names

The day continued with little stress besides my efforts of walking with my ill-acquainted crutches — these broken bones still needed time for healing, and the efforts of going back to normal society without any rehabilitation at the hospital left me ample for struggles. My mother was quite aggravated in the past, though currently it stood greatly for me who desired not to seek help from hospitals regarding mental stability nor my health. Right now, my focus was on vengeance, and the reestablishment that would take place for me in society.

Bakugou was one of my few concerns — when he approached me, he had no tact nor patience in his words and actions: jumping in without any hesitance to establish his dominance, however; I avoided his aggressive assault of words and pushed the affront onto his own insecurities, honestly, that boy has a god-complex worse than mine. He would become a tremendous problem to me if I didn't deal with him soon. That blonde brat had something big coming to him… If he thought that Izuku committing suicide was such a joke, then I would show him a new comedy, one that will bash his stupid head into a wall until his useless gray matter of a brain cell was smashed in and became useless — even more so than it already was.

Too violent? Too bad…

My thoughts were sometimes distracting as I continued on my journey throughout the town, but first I needed upgrades for my computer wasting away back at the apartment. This universe was far behind in technological advancements, but had the same basics of codes which evolved into the ones in my old universe — basically, I knew of every programmable advantage for coding, and while my other affinities for Izuku's past dream would reach out in regards to my magic, the source of all future income and to give me and his mother, now mine, a better life. That of course meant that I would steal plenty away from the numbskulls known as the rich, their egos wouldn't be able to contest with my knowledge — I am centuries ahead in intellect and ability; this life would be easy, all it would take to shake the world would be a little bit of research, and Izuku's old notes made that easy.

To succeed in my endeavors I would need materials — so thus began my travels for abandoned equipment, some refrigerators, computers, and car parts would do the trick...

Yet, another one of my concerns popped into my head as I came across a trash ridden beach with an old sign covering its name. It was perfect, but the name of the location had been smeared away with layers of grime and sludge from the horrible years that it lacked upkeep, which prompted the biggest question to come to my mind from my transmigration into Izuku Midoriya's body: what was my name? It had been so long since I last heard it, but as I settled myself on the smallest part of the hackneyed beach, I remembered _her_ voice and image — and with it came a flash of terrifying memories that I hadn't touched in decades — a mere flesh of kindness that laced over the poisons and the dangers of her existence. And then, I remembered a sweet memory of when I first tasted power…

When I first discovered that I could conquer death.

—

" _Mikumo! What are you doing? It's so dark outside, don't tell me you were practicing your magic again are you?" she yelled preciously, her voice holding obvious concern for my wellbeing and safety._

 _I looked over to her, my beloved friend and someone who I hoped to hold more closely in the future — she was my everything, and my life was hers for the taking, if only she would accept my gift of it to her._

" _Oh. Kinomi, I didn't see you…" my voice drawled; it was subtle, but as my voice faded I could feel my cheeks redden as the silence between us grew._

" _Pffft. You are so stupid sometimes! I swear, we need to get you some glasses or something, I've been waving over to you for the past two minutes. What were you doing?" Kinomi asked me softly, she had always been curious to what I was up to — whether it be the most dangerous of spells, the most taboo of curses, or even the simplest of potions; my magic intrigued her._

 _And I was glad._

" _I was reading up on a book… it's interesting, it's based on the theory of spell creation. Did you know that no one has created a new spell in a century? Most are based off of latin or off of the creator's expression of their magic — some are runes and summoning circles, there's so much out there that we don't know of, you know? I was just wondering again if we could ever escape this place, and I know — I know that this place is home. But what if? What if there was something greater out for me, for us! It would be amazing? Imagine the bright city lights and the new world! This little bug-town isn't good enough for us, I know we can do better! We could become famous, be written down in history books- Gah! Sorry Kino, I got rambly again…" I spoke quickly without a gasp of air in between — the words seemed too important, the dream was too important, and I didn't want to let go._

 _Kinomi gave her biggest smile, and with it was accompanied by the most joyous of laughter: "Oh my gosh, Miku! You are such a nerd, I bet that you can get into one of those fancy magic academies, it'll be great, but you have to promise to write back to me, ok?" she snickered as she helped me up from my spot on the grassy hill — my book still in my arms as we left the spot of memory, together._

 _The town we lived in was small, and I always hated it. The library was the biggest place here, only because the small town had once been a booming populace for the magical knowledge of soul magic — binding your own existence to the world and then controlling it. But still, this place was barren. It didn't really hold anything in place nor mind, it was just here. School was boring, none of the teachers seemed fully qualified and were much too simple minded to go in depth on the subjects they had supposedly "mastered". The routine was repetitive: awake, eat, school, and again._

 _We walked through the town hands intertwined like most children did — sure we were thirteen… But the bliss of living small paid off big. When people think of you as naive and helpless, they underestimate you — it becomes much easier to surprise them, and then take them down before the entire crowd. Some people needed an ego check, and I believed that wholeheartedly. But then there was me… I had created something that I was so scared to show anyone… I could be called a monster… and so, I looked quickly over my shoulder to make sure my best friend was occupied before I took to my next task._

 _I opened my book to see the beautiful sealed bookmark that my mother had gotten me from a trunk of my father's old belongings — it was a blue butterfly, long ago perished but preserved with novice magic. With slight ease, I touched its wings, and the once decayed flesh of its wings bloomed luminously — I had felt for the strings that were once worn away and gray; and with my touch, they connected to the thicker golden strings in the air. I watched as life filled its entire being._

 _The creature flied away, its wings beating with energy as it flew into the air away from my pages covered in ink stains with incantations and words of foreign lands._

 _Kinomi… she was the only person who I could trust with my secret… but still, did I want to tell her? Yeah! I would tell her tomorrow, it'll be our great next adventure!_

 _My secret, my power: spells that could control the current of life; magic let me be the puppeteer of fate. But first, I would change the life that lead Kinomi and I for the better. My little notebook full of observations on the magic world at large was small, but inside it held my memories, and those thoughts fueled my powers. As long as I was remembered, I would be powerful. Maybe I wouldn't be the best of all mages, maybe I would be the weakest, but the way I saw these lights — souls, life lines, and fate — I could change them so that we would have more time — so that we could have a brilliant future that would shine brighter than the biggest star…_

 _All it took was a little bit of writing, and then fate was a beast leashed in my control._

Too bad my trust was betrayed, the day I told Kinomi my biggest secret was my biggest mistake — telling her anything has always been my regret.

You can only trust yourself… because soon those angelic white smiles will _decay_ into dark little lies that creep up onto you until you've been stabbed into the ground by the weight of betrayal. Every ounce of kindness and honor you once sacrificed for them… adds onto the hours they use to torture you until you die from exhaustion _._

—

The memories had flooded through my mindscape when I took a deep, shaky breath. It did not surprise me that I could remember that day with such vivid colors, but what did surprise me was the internal fear that only grew and spread across my skin like wildfire as the cold chill directed my hands to the wetness that stained my cheeks — I was crying. Why? Why did I still feel hurt from her actions, why did her fake smiles still plague me — even when I was no longer the person I used to be. Right now, I was not Mikumo; I was Izuku: the boy who still had a life in front of him, the boy who tried to commit suicide but still held great potential flowing through his veins. Success was a mere stepping stone in this game of life, for Izuku would become the most powerful person in this universe; I would make him that person: a hero.

Nothing would stand in my way, especially the hurdles that seemed like mountains to him, because to me they were nothing but flecks of dust in the wind. But still, her image stained deeper than any feud in my mind: her crimson eyes that held the same beauty as poppy flowers, her golden locks that were more innocent than freshly, fallen snow; both were stuck behind my eyes and I could feel my fingers tense as I recalled everything I remembered about her body.

But now, the matter of materials came back to my mind as I gazed out towards the crisp blue sea. Even though the pungent rank of the trashy environment honed in onto my senses, the beauty of the clean bits of the beach conspired a plan within my mind. I was going to clean this beach and make it shine again, those pearly white sands would shimmer in the light next to the rest of the open sea — I would make sure of that. Life might be a pain, but no piece of earth deserved to be covered in such filth.

I looked upon the caches of human ignorance in search for my desired parts, and while setting my mind to work, I came across a flock of white birds crooning at themselves. Their feathers were covered in small amounts of grime and while their statures were small and meek their numbers were large. As I stared into the beady eyes of one of the creatures, I couldn't help the dark smirk that traveled up my lips as I muttered a familiar phrase in a language long lost.

" _From forth your actions may your lives feed my own in tune to the song of death…"_ I drawled forth, each syllable stinging my tongue as I watched the tens of birds slowly turn their bodies to position their gazes with mine.

Soon those lively, beast-like glares dulled into nothing but lifeless glass as one by one, each bird fell dead. Their predicament would be to my use — their sacrifices would heal me… I felt my smirk twitch as I let out a small chuckle. Life was such an easy toy, and as I gazed out at the carcases of the fowls I felt a small buzz travel across my body like a battery fueling a game.

I felt bad at first, but then I remembered how many times I had done this before — I had used to take out armies of men and women alike to the doors of death while stealing their own hopes and dreams for my own. My magic was dark and taboo since every action I did was a mere act of thievery. But death was a mere game, and I was its master… my actions were like the banker in monopoly — sure, your souls may be yours, but I still held control over them — and for that I felt guilt; guilt not for my own actions but for those of fate's. I never should have held this power, yet here I was playing nature like a fool. But still, that pain of my own conscious being attacked was strange, pushing it off as Izuku's past effects of this body, I continued forth.

Slowly but surely, the feeling of pain left my bones as I gripped onto the plaster casts that covered my limbs. I felt for that familiar tug of power that once covered my skin thick in a layer of power: control. Digging around in my own core I soon found what I was looking for, and with a quick tug I felt my skin become ablaze with power. Focusing my energy onto the barriers on top of my appendages, I soon felt the familiar breeze of the salty air hit my skin as the cast shattered brilliantly with a soft _ploompht_ onto the sand.

Letting out a breath that I didn't know that I had held, I smiled down at the effects of my actions. My right arm was finally free, and my left leg would be next to be liberated. I moved my fingers intune to my heart beat as I tested every reflex. It was fun to acknowledge that I still held the ability to transfer life and energy from other beings into my own, and now I had extra…

Focusing on the sparking blaze that struck my skin, I cocooned the raw energy with my own life force, condensing the invisible light into some _physical_ while whispering incantations of my own accord — commanding life and death to do my bidding, " _Take your gifts and merge them into one, I best this power into one of none, from nothing to something a light into dusk, turn this power into something like rust,"_ — and then, laying in my hands was a brilliantly shining ring of iron, it was stained black and on the top of the band laid a single dull stone that glowed slightly with hues of gold — the color of life itself.

My smile grew as I viewed my new vessel, this small ring would become my container for spare power, and from now on I would never be without reinforcement. Warmth spread across my hand as I slipped the ring onto my ring finger. Soon, I felt that power lay peacefully on my hand as I continued in my search for spare parts.

By the end of the day, I held in my possession several added souls to my ring of death and a large trash bag filled with mechanical bits and bolts, as well as old parts from old computers and cars — the technology was outdated and the parts were faded, but they still would fit the purpose that I intended for them: to give me a step up in the game.

The bag of trinkets made subtle sounds alike to _clink_ and _clank_ as I walked across the boardwalk.

Oh how _fun_ it will be to upgrade that puny spark plug at home into something like my previous supercomputer, soon my kingdom would be built, and my plans would be put into motion.

—

When I arrived home I greeted my mother and then retreated into the depths of my room. Right now, I had no patience for pleasantries, and as much as I wanted to keep that woman happy, I desired my progress much more — I needed that time to make the future the priority that would be achievable. For the first time in a long ass time, I felt impatience — I wanted to get the tedious task of getting this computer online done already, and my time was ticking: tomorrow I would be prompted with an irritating event that was unavoidable: high school.

The minute I reached the prehistoric computer, I felt a sense of relief as I examined the damage of time and how long it would take for my own expertise to catch the technology up to a standard I would be satisfied with; luckily, it would not take long. To spare myself the details, I focused on my work and tuned out my musing thoughts. Connecting wires and what-not was not _fun,_ it was tedious and aggravating as I was electrocuted every so often for no reason, using my own memory from eons ago to recreate the circuitry for new motherboards was not fun either, and this experience was generally horrid. Taking note of the events that I did today, I let out a breath.

It was irritating that even though my magical fluency and abilities were still the same, my position in this world was nothing…

Tomorrow would be a new experience that built up slight dread in my stomach as I thought about the events that would happen tomorrow, as well as the conclusion that seems to plague my mind about a familiar figure. It seemed too cheesy, almost too easy if my thoughts were to be true. But as I began to string my memories together in comparison to the ballad that was Izuku's, I began to see some similarities. This world still had magic… but it really was in a different form. The place I was in was familiar, the cities were too similar, the names of the people who I remembered had leads back to this _timeline_. Yes, this was not a separate universe form my own… It was still my _world_.

Except… a different _time_ : I'd travelled back into the past by trading places with one of my ancestors. And honestly, I should have figured it out by now… after all there were two similar constants that I noticed: appearances and names…

Katsuki Bakugou compared to my _previous_ beloved; Kinomi Bakugou. She had his eyes, those brilliant ruby gems that I thought were mine, but were stolen by its own chains, she was my beauty, she was my worth, but in the end she turned out to be my plague — at first I didn't notice, but she was my poison. And then there was Izuku, and when compared to me, I saw it all: we had similar appearances; the same green eyes that haunted every person we attach ourselves to, we had the same power over magic — he was capable of everything I was, even if he just needed to discover it! So why didn't he?

Yet again I felt the foreign feeling of tears trickling down my face as I gazed upon the blue screen of my booting computer. Why… Why did the past hurt so much even though there was so much hope for the future? Why were my memories such an anchor… the pain unforgotten — her words like daggers deep in my skin, her betrayal the salt in my wounds as she kicked away my love and desire for her own benefit. Did Izuku feel the same? Did he love the person that drove him to jump? Did he ask these questions to himself as well? As I wallowed there in my own sorrows, I swore that I felt someone there with me, someone whispering to me all the answers that I sought. Those green eyes that I saw now in my reflection haunted me…

Why couldn't I name this feeling? Names were such a pain…

I couldn't name my emotions as I began to choke out sobs at a time. Why did it hurt to be human? I felt the swelling burn of something at the back of my throat as more waves of tears poured down my face as I wiped away at the fallen droplets that clung to my face. Memories were sorrowful, both Izuku's and mine; both plagued in misery and betrayal, and both led to our deaths… but now I was living and I didn't know what to do. Each goal that I've set out will be done within a day, but what else?

This isn't just Izuku's life now… and I don't want to take his name; but his name should go on! He shouldn't be forgotten, no matter where he is or no matter what has happened. Soon, I found myself kneeling by the pile of old journals that he once wrote in. As I read thoroughly through the pages as the computer softly whirred in the background, I got lost in his musings. Why did such a child, so much like I, die so soon?

" _D-Death dear fr-friend, whether he may rest or be lo-ost, guide him. F-For life was not kind, and I will not show her m-mercy…"_ with small whispers filling the room, my tears stopped and the computer finally stilled.

My words had reached out with as much power that I could muster to send good will to wherever Izuku was, even if he was he with me somehow, because he needed to know that someone besides his mother cared for him, and this was no longer pity; but sympathy.

I could never truly be Izuku… but I circled a portion of his name that laid in ink on his journals, and softly, I traced my old name.

"Something not quite me, but not fully him… Mizuku… Yeah. That'll work."


	4. Chapter 4 - His Empire

It didn't take long for me to start setting up my plans that night — even though it was cold and the room's chill was biting at my ears, I continued my rapid typing as I began to establish a new domain and private network for my own personal use — for simple terms, I'll avoid all the details, but currently, I was pushing at every advantage I held to establish a full functional website that wouldn't be traced no matter what. Brackets and other various symbols covered my computer screen as I focused on completing the coding required for my new goal — to expose all fake heroes to the public and to build an image for said audience.

The world currently was magnetic when it came to heroes — obviously there were those who liked gossip, those who conspired theories about the "too perfect" ones, and the ever so glamorous fans who just desired knowledge — and I felt as if it was appropriate to start off my goals with income. With my vast knowledge on how humans worked mentally — ironically enough — I began to scheme how to start a general base of support. My web domain was finished and all that really I needed to do was embellish it with my first report… And that was my dilemma: in this type of age, the most popular media that would spread quickly would be digitally, but even more so was the social media platform that allowed the sharing of various video files: YoTube.

YoTube was obviously a great place to start off with, and even more so if I wanted somewhat of a fanbase to start The general income of advertisements and the future benefits of exposure would prove me well, but my biggest concern was how to disguise myself… sure, there were the typical options of heavily, disfiguring, voice modifiers, however; the statistics of personas using those familiar tones were significantly disliked. Those robotic tones were seen as cowardly, faceless, and untrustworthy… So now, I had to either create a new identity or… use my own — the media needed someone to cling to, and a fake face, even if it wasn't real, would satisfy their curiosity enough to continue onto him, so for now, I would give them a voice. And I suppose that I'll just have to wing it…

Because no one else can.

—

First, I had to plot my plan — after all, I couldn't go in blind; I needed to be prepared. Flinging myself deep into the hole that was called the internet, I focused on researching everything that had become relevant in modern media. Luckily, the world still ran fluently on satire and comedy — especially on those relevant to relativity; people loved laughing at things they could relate to, and my plan was to take advantage of that small fact. So, now was the time to delve into the side of the internet which I would need to be as careful as possible in: the realm of the fangirls; Mumblr. It didn't take me long to notice the large fanbase of which teenage girls were flooding over heroes, and there it was — the place where I would spread a small lick of flame and hoped that it would spur into a mass wildfire, like any simple maniac, I planned to feed both wolves. Neither despair nor the benevolent would go hungry from knowledge; this night, I would feed them a feast of words that would drown them in wines of enlightenment, and savory slices of truth; and all it took was a simple click of a button.

Across several hundred websites, blogs, and domains, one name was born:

 _TheArchiveOfTruth_.

And with that, I let the internet venture through Izuku's mind, and every little theory and analysis that he had made become known to the entire world. Izuku had become famous, his thoughts were now worshipped much more than any bible, and I still regret that the boy himself never showed the world his true calling — telling the truth, if only he hadn't lied to _himself_.

—

It took two weeks — two weeks for my followerless name to be supported by millions, the world had been mindfucked by Izuku's hard work. The internet spread like wildfire about a new user whose content blew up brighter than any star: he made theories and analyses on the heroes who ran the world. The theories that the mysterious user made were detailed and precise, as if he were a witness to every hero's journey — and, obviously, I wasn't: I was not a true witness to the makings of every hero's story, but what use was first hand experience, when the heroes were already open books? Izuku's notes were expressive, deep, and detailed; every word in Izuku's journals drew you in with their critical tone, his writing was like a black hole destroying everything you _thought_ that you knew.

And within those two beautiful weeks of my new name on the internet, theories, rumors, and speculations of my true identity began to bloom.

—

 _ **Flameboy999 has created public group chat: Thoughts on TheArchiveOfTruth**_

 _ **Users Floater253, HeroFan101, and Bi-Tone_Fury have joined**_

 _Flameboy999: Have you guys heard of this new channel of Yotube? The guy's really popular on Mumblr as well, he's called TheArchiveOfTruth._

 _Floater253: Omg, I know him! I saw his recent video on Endeavor! I always thought that his quirk was mutant somehow, not that it was an emitter and he was putting on his flames for mere appearance. Gah! I hate people like him, he's such a jerk! I never new that he treated his fans like that. What an ass!_

 _Bi-Tone_Fury: Tell me about it, I was such a huge fan of Endeavor, but was always afraid to actually approach that guy. AND IT TURNS OUT THAT HE SHOVED A KID WHO ASKED FOR AN AUTOGRAPH? He DOES that ON THE DAILY. LIKE WTF, WHY IS THIS GUY GETTING PAID WITH OURRRRR MONEY?!_

 _HeroFan101: I like how her voice is, she's so cute when she blasted Endeavor's ass like that! Women after my own heart!_

 _Fameboy999: Uhhhhhh no. Archive is totally a dude, there's no way he's a chick._

 _Floater253: I just want to know who they are! They sound so smart, and they were able to find dirt on Endeavor from his debut! Like, how can anyone even resaerch that far?!_

 _Bi-Tone_Fury: Shuddup Floater, you can't even spell research right, I doubt you even have a brain._

 _ **User SleepDepreivedPanda has joined**_

 _Floater253: Shut up*_

 _SleepDepreivedPanda: Back onto topic here, I just watched their vid, and dear lord I never could have lived without out their knowledge, but I do agree with HeroFan, I think their voice is adorable, but I don't think that Archive is a girl, probably a boy with a cute voice._

 _Fameboy999: Either way, their video just broke the record of views in a 24-hour period! They need to be a hero or a police-man to be that smart and have all that prrof right? I bet u that Archive is in his mid-thirties and is the ehad of the police dept. Just sick of the bs that heroes like Endeavass get away with._

 _ **Bi-Tone_Fury and HeroFan101 liked Fameboy999's comment**_

 _Fameboy999: Anyway, I made this gc public because there are rumors going around that Archive has been active with his fan groups, and is actually checking each of the groups that are active, some Mumblr bum posted a shit ton of screenshots about how polite Archive was with his fans._

 _SleepDepreivedPanda: Oh. I heard about that, apparently he answered a bunch of their questions too, right?_

 _Floater253: ^^_

 _Bi-Tone_Fury: WHAT?! DO YOU THINK ARCHIVE WILL LOOK AT OUR GC?_

 _Fameboy99: Well, it is public. DUmmy. We just need to look out for a certain user.. I forget the actual name. It was Mizu or something. Fuck. I can't thinn of it. Anyone remeber?_

 _ **User SimplyStupid has joined**_

 _SimplyStupid: I saw this gc, and I just read up on the comments, I think I know what ArchiveofTruth's User is on here._

 _Fameboy999: Well, spit it out man!_

 _ **User SimplyStupid is typing**_

 _SimplyStupid: well the rumor mill goes that his username is Mizuku_BlackRabbit, but then again the source is from the gal team from Mumblr, so it might not be reliable._

 _Fameboy999: FUCK RELIABLE, THIS IS A GODDAMN LEAD. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES, I JUST WANT TO KNOW IF HE'LL SPECULATE WHETHER MT. LADY'S QUIRK IS TRULY JUST HER GROWING!?_

 _Foater253: Well it isn't like he's just gonna show up, he's from Japan right? I bet you it's really late where he is right now, its around 3am where I am and I'm in Tokyo, so I doubt that he'll get on line._

 _ **User Mizuku_BlackRabbit has joined**_

 _Fameboy999: Holy shit._

 _SimplyStupid: Oh. My. God._

 _Mizuku_BlackRabbit: Hello, I have been summoned?_

 _Bi-Tone_Fury: Suck it floater!_

—

I scoured through thousands of online forums that night — groups chats and all, until the midnight clock struck. I could vividly remember each question that each person asked as they were all too common. The one that struck out to me the most was the one that I couldn't really understand.

"What's your quirk?" the question toyed on my lips with a sweet taste of naivety, oh how joyous it must be to be ignorant of what that question implied.

I sat at my computer as the hours went by into the early morning, the ferocious tapping of my keyboard acting like a metronome in the chattering noise that sounded like music to my ears. Click by click, I answered each question while keeping my answers vague but polite, and soon I saw their hunger for knowledge roar: the questions on my next analysis — or theory video — came in large buckets of requests on certain heroes or subjects; everyone wanted a video on All Might, and oh how much I wanted to rip into the man — the one who helped trigger Izuku's suicide.

I could feel the bitter taste of hatred hang on my tongue as I ployed with each viewer by mentioning that the next topic would be a full blast attack of truth on someone who everyone thought was perfect. Oh, this would be so much fun.

It hadn't taken long for me during those two weeks of setting up my online empire to get a hold of the bodily controls of my body; I could finally run freely like I did in the past, carry heavy objects, and most importantly, use passive magic: protective shields, instant mana replenishing charms, health replenishing charms, enhancement charms, and enchantments on my body.

Using my magic to grab out for items for me, I motioned over a cup of coffee as I read through the millions of comments that littered my past video. I found that it was time for my next move, but first… I had a little bug to deal with.

I pulled up a document on my computer and scrolled through my several tabs before settling on one that had plagued the screen for days: the ever so glamorous and magnificent asshole known as Bakugou Katsuki. And of course, next to that image of my current enemy, there were locations of empty warehouses, supply stores, and a safely anonymous, online blackmarket for human organs; was I thinking of killing off the bastard and then selling off his body parts so that there would be no evidence? Maybe, maybe not, but I was successful in my schemes as my preparations for the past week had been completed. I could taste the sweet agony of vengeance on my tongue, and hear the delectable screams of the vile in my head before I thrust myself to savor my latest memory of the brat; oh, I could feel my body shake in the anticipation of slaughtering the idiotic cow. And with that, my mind thrust into the dark embrace of my mind, the last scene of us — Bakugou and I — as the actors on stage before he was mercilessly shutdown by my verbiage, too bad I couldn't finish the job, this story was getting interesting.

—

 _The first day of school had been awful; people bustling around the school all stopped to ask of my condition, most were teasing and taunting to get rid of their guilt (if they even had any), but what I found hilarious was the amount of appalling glares towards my direction. From what I understood, Izuku was a kind and quiet boy, forced to be an introvert by the surroundings around him even though his actual mindset wsa outgoing and bubbly; but the world around him forced him into a glass bubble so fragile that it shattered with a sickening pop when he fell from that roof._

" _Oi Midoriya, glad to see that you're alive! I hope you didn't take our words to heart, we were just kidding," one boy said with the fakest-ass smile I had ever seen, his eyes shined with a gleam of pure ridicule as other students around us began to snicker loudly. Keep laughing you bastards, see where that'll get you next... I could feel my body react to the conversation even though mentally, I was still. Yes, I was annoyed by this idiot's prescence… but I never before wanted to deck someone in the face harder than I did just then — so I did, well in my head anyway, violence was not always the answer._

" _Hey, are you ignoring me? Come on, it's not like a loser like you should have taken those comments so seriously, we were just kidding, you nerd," — Oh please shut up… — "Maybe you aren't hearing me right, but you need to remember something, fucker, this is our school, and a quirkless loser like you should be careful about what he does… or else you might just find yourself falli-" — Ok; That's it — he wasn't able to finish his sentence before I punched him square in the face with a punch filled to the brim with pure irritation — anger wasn't worth wasting on the fool — which broke his nose with a clean_ snap _._

 _It had taken me one millisecond to swing my body back into a stance and then thrust my fist forward into the bastard's face; it took two to then retreat back into my stance and then begin a blitz onto his already bleeding face with a charged snapping kick. I shoved all the force in my kick into the very point of the ball of my foot, and with a quick swing I heard another satisfying, yet revolting crack — a noise so cacophonous that one girl nearby went to cover her ears — something that I just couldn't help but smile wickedly at._

 _Oh how fun it was to hear the bastard scream in pain and rage: "Why you little brat-!"_

 _I answered his grievance with a sharp uppercut which caused him to stumble backwards — falling right into the arms of an awaiting bystander as a crowd began to form around the "fight"; honestly, I would have called it an "one-sided beatdown" as I kicked the living shit out of his ass while he was still trying to escape. Eventually, someone tried to hold me down, and casually I slapped their hands away; there was no need for anyone to try and apprehend me, technically this was self-defense: he had verbally harassed me with a question relating to a suicidal experience, which could be sighted as verbal harassment through distressing the victim of said verbiage, even implying with a threatening tone that I could end up in that situation again._

 _Addressing the teacher who was trying to grasp at me yet again, I spoke: "I only acted in self-defense, he offered no help or guidance in an aftermath of a traumatic event, instead he pushed to remind me of said event and try to push the blame of the situation onto me — the victim and possibly future one of that with his threats. Is it not justified for me to attack back when I was obviously distressed?"_

 _Rapidly, my words went by and the crowd's jovial sounds of seeing bloodshed silenced as the quirkless loser that they all saw as worthless (the ever so glamorous moi), stood up for himself with a steel cold confidence that the boy a few mere weeks ago severely lacked. At that moment, I held no tact, nor the patience required when dealing with children, being a fully lived man in a dead child's body did that to you, and right now it was heavily abundant in the terms of having to deal with one-hundred blind mice when you were the orange-tabby about to swallow them all whole._

 _Eventually, the entire situation went down like rain on a forest fire as the boy was carried away to the nurse and I was let off with a small warning; if there was anything great with being watched like a hawk because of a suicide attempt, no one wanted to trigger you, well everyone except the brainless, i.e. the boy I just sent to the hospital, oops._

 _After everyone began to clear away from the situation, I could feel their gazes linger on me, however; their glares and stares never met my own eyes as I continued on my path to the classroom. It was yet another day ahead of me, and the moment I walked across school grounds to meet the door of my classroom, I felt the budding reminder of my purpose in this body crash through my thoughts._

 _Vengeance, power, and capabilities… those were my only reasons for being here; I was not here for dilly dallying nor to make friends, this was the time for me to build my future under the guise of a child while I still could. That was until poor little Bakugou just had to intervene my path: "Deku… You dare show yourself at school? After you belittled me?!"_

 _I could actually feel my irritation scratching at me to scream at the damn fool, and then peel his skin. Yes, to relish in the delight of slowly removing every layer of his epidermis until he was let as a mere sack of bleeding flesh and bones, the simple revelation of wicked bliss that was called torturing another human being — if I could even be called human still. And so, as my warning had once gone ignored, I advanced onto the fool known as Bakugou._

" _I'd advise you to shut up, now," the words came spilling out in a spiteful tone that I couldn't really feel attached too, hatred ws too easy of an emotion._

" _Or what? You'll beat me up, you're still the same FUCKING QUIRKLESS LOSER AS BEFORE. What don't you understand, DEKU?!" his voice ravaged my ears with a pounding annoyance, did this kid ever know to shut up?!_

 _It took one second — one full damn second for me to ready a sudden jab towards his chest, another to aim for a finishing blow. We may have been on campus, but there were so many ways to fake a suicide, I think that Bakugou knew of that the best between the two of us. All it took was for me to snap his pathetic neck and then throw him off the roof, magic could help disguise my trace, and he would die forgotten — his ambitions forgotten and useless. But suddenly, as I reached to commit the deed, my hands fought me, shaking in a vibration of struggle — anger filling my bones as for the first time in forever, my body wouldn't listen to me._

 _And before I could even react, his name spilled from my mouth, "Kacchan… I'm not the same Izuku from before, and things are going to change, this world is not kind nor is it just; you are the person who made me change, and I am no longer here… This is my last message to you… I'm sorry that I wasn't a better friend: I'm sorry that I was so pathetic that you wanted me dead."-what._

 _My hands immediately slapped towards my mouth, someone was moving my tongue and cheek as they pleased to display their displeasure of my own actions. Izuku? No… there couldn't be any logical solution for his sudden appearance in this body… unless — unless he never left. At. all._

 _I left the scene like a coward — I admit that — but I refused to allow my world be shaken by one small detour, it turned out that Izuku was yet another traffic cone on the road to come… Why he wanted to protect that mumbling bully, that wretched fucking villain that I just wanted to_ _ **squeeze**_ _life out of… I don't know. But if there was something that I did acknowledge, it was that Izuku was much more capable than I thought._

—

"Clever boy, Izuku: Let's get the rest of this party _started_ , shall we?"


End file.
